Gotham in Gray
by Jane Speare
Summary: In this world there are no masks. No heroes, no villains. Just man. Lead investigator at Wayne Investigations, child company to Wayne Enterprises, Richard Grayson takes the cases police won't. Bringing down kidnappers, and killers alike, while unaware of the predator hunting him in in the shadows.
1. Chapter 1

Grayson had his eyes closed against the persistent throbbing beating behind his sockets. The orange glow from the ceiling light pushed through, he could almost see the veins pulsing in his lids.

The daily hum of the office permeated the heavy wood door. It was deafening. The fogged glass pane rattled as someone trod heavy footed past. Prying his eyes open Grayson glared at the door. As if that was the root of his pain, not the lack of sleep.

Groaning he pushed himself out of the chair. Twisted his back one-way, then the other, with a satisfying pop. Looking down at his desk, strewn with papers. Leaning sideways he opened his top drawer and extracted a pill bottle. Slipping a small tablet from the container, he pocketed the rest. He grimace as he swallowed it dry, then picked up his navy mug. The writing had rubbed most the way down. You could barely make out, "Wayne Investigations."

Pulling the door open he walked out onto the floor. Rows of desks with an assortment of characters. He used to know every name. Now there were quite a number of unfamiliar faces, and empty desks. High turnover rate.

He walked into the kitchen area and dumped coffee into his mug. The warmth spread through the ceramic into his hands. He leaned back on the counter and looked out at the people at work.

"No one cares!" A voice shouted. Grayson's eyes flicked to the front desk. A young Hispanic male was leaning forward towards the receptionist. Frustration, anger, and worse plastered on his face. Fear.

Setting his cup to the side. Grayson walked out of the break-room, down the aisle to the desk.

"Alyssa, go ahead on break. You were supposed to be there 5 minutes ago." Flashing him a grateful half smile she slipped from the chair. Grayson turned to the kid. "Grayson," He held his hand out. "How can I help you?"

"Martin," the boy's hand was cold and clammy in his. "My brother." He choked on the word."

"We can go in my office." He walked back. Keeping the boy in his peripheral.

He wasn't a boy. Just a boyish face. Grayson decided that ten minutes into the interview. There were lines under his eyes. Fine, hat would later be deep gouges. His hands were never still. They moved with his words. Eyes flicked back and forth.

"He never showed. I was picking him up from school, no church, I think."

"Cut it," Grayson said. "You weren't picking him up. You have no clue where he was." Martin deflated in his seat. "Where were you?" He shifted in his seat. "That's okay, it's not important."

"Out of town."

"I won't ask what you were doing." Grayson put a pencil to paper. "Your brother disappeared on July 18th. His body was discovered August 4th. No wallet, single gunshot to the head. That chain, around your neck, was that his?"

"Yes." Martin tugged at the chain. A simple cross tumbled over the edge of his grey t-shirt.

"Was it with him?"

"Always, it was our mothers. She died when he was three."

"You were what, eight?" Martin shook his head yes. Grayson circled gold cross on his note pad.

"Did he have any enemies?"

"No."

"Do you?" Martin hesitated. The hand touching the cross dropped into his lap.

"I'll be discrete, I need names."

After Martin left Grayson reviewed his notes. They were scarce, he's gone off less in the past. The list of possible was long. Something told him it would be empty soon enough. The cross, he couldn't get it off his mind. Phone in hand he dialed an old friend.

"Gordon," The rough voice barked in his ear.

"It's Richard."

"Dick?"

"Richard." He grit his teeth at Gordons laugh. "Need a file pulled, quietly."

"Name?" Gordon slipped back into detective mode.

"Michael Rios."

"I'll have it over by lunch."

"Thanks Gordon."

"Anytime Dick."

At 11:15 Grayson was interrupted by a sharp rap on the glass of the door. A backlit wide shoulder silhouette filled the frame.

"Come in."

Gordon entered. A slim file in his hands.

"Don't frown at me kid." He put the file on Grayson's desk. "Not from my department."

"They sent it over to gang?"

"Yea," Gordon scratched his gray streaked blond head. "Can't say I blame them. Kid was known to hang out in those crowds."

"His brother did."

"So he did by default. Not everything has a second layer Dick."

"Your right," Gordon turned to the door. "Sometimes there are more."

School was just letting out when Grayson arrived at Gotham Central High. His blazer pulled tight around him. Fall was beginning to feel more like winter. Too early. He could smell the cold in the air. It burned his nostrils and settled in his lungs.

Entering the building he felt a wave of familiarity. He hadn't attended Central. He went to a private school outside of the city. High School was high school, no matter where you went. The same bland colors on the walls, the same lockers. He made his way down to room 103. A woman sat behind the desk. Brown thick rimmed glasses perched upon a gracefully curved nose. Her hair was pulled into a severe knot on the back of her head. It appeared brown in the dim light filtering through the windows. A tanned hand rubbed the back of her neck while the other expertly flipped a page over.

"Ms. Anders?"

"Hmm?" She didn't look up from the paper.

"Richard Grayson," He entered the room. "I messaged you this morning about one of your students"

"Oh," She jerked to her feet, tucking an errant curl behind her ear. They were roughly the same height. "Please, come in. I don't know how I can help. You said you had questions?" She spoke slowly, as if tasting each word. Her movements were equally slow, fluid, almost calculated as she sat back down. She looked at him with clear eyes. Frown lines between her brows.

"What was he like?"

"Quiet, he did his homework. He stuck to the middle."

"The middle?" He stood in front of her desk towering over her.

She smiled and took off her glasses. "He was smart, just didn't want the attention." She opened a drawer to her right and pulled out a file. "I have one of his quizzes in here." She pulled out a piece of paper. "Here," she passed it over to him and tuned on a desk lamp. "Hold it up to the light."

He did so. Previously erased answers shown through.

"What am I looking at?"

"What he erased, that is the correct answer."

"Confidence?"

"They are all the correct answer. He wrote down the correct answer, erased it and put down the wrong one on purpose." Grayson face twisted in confusion. "I know. I've never seen it before."

"Can I keep this?"

"Sure."

"In his file, it says you reported him missing."

She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck again. "His brother did. The police didn't do anything. I thought they would do something if it came from me."

"Were you close?"

"No, I feel responsible for all the students that enter that door." Her eyes misted over. Grayson's respect for her grew.

"Thank you for your help, Ms. Anders."

She shook her head with a sad smile. "Thank you for looking into this. Here," She grabbed a sticky note, wrote down a number, and handed it to him. "That's my cellphone. If you need anything."

Grayson pulled out his phone and swiftly entered a message. "Now you have mine. Same deal. Anything." He smiled at her and nodded his head as he left.

He knew it was a long shot. She didn't have more information than he did. He slipped the paper she gave him, and the sticky note, into his pocket. So far he knew the kid was smart and his brother ran in a rough crowd. One of those got him killed.


	2. Chapter 2

Kori rocked back in her chair. The wood old wood creaked in the process. Removing her glasses, she pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes tightly shut. Her heartbeat was pounding behind her eyes and temples. Taking deep breathes to ground herself, counting each inhale and exhale until her heart beat slowed.

Mikey's face flashed in her mind. Here eyes flew open and she leapt from her seat. Pushing a stray lock out of her face she exhaled and paced to the door, then back to her desk. Yanking the top right drawer open she pulled out her thin purple wallet and phone, putting them on the desk before throwing her jacket on and depositing them in her pockets.

She frowned in the doorway, looking back into the dim classroom. Light from the window catching on dust particles in the air. Books stacked disorganized on shelves. Tacky motivational posters that she used to love.

Five, that's how many more empty seats she had that morning. Bringing the total missing, from her class, to seventeen. She should have told him, about the other kids. He would have taken it seriously. Not like the principal, who calling her paranoid when she told him, or the officer who stopped listening to her halfway through her statement. He would have looked into it. Her eyes went to the small grey business car on the corner of her desk. She quickly went back in and snatched it before leaving.

Locking the door after her, she took long strides down the hall.

The Detective was half a street down by the time she reached the sidewalk. He was walking slowly, but still at a faster pace than she could jog to catch up. Breaking into a run she took off after him.

"Wait," she called when she was a few yards away. He slowed and turned back to her. Eyebrows twitching down for a second. Stopping next to him she took a few deep breaths to steady herself. "There are more kids missing."

"Missing?" He turned till he was facing her directly.

"The past few months I've had seventeen missing students. Five just today, of course some of those could have been sick."

"Have you had that many sick in one day before?"

"No."

"Why didn't you say something before?"

"I thought you wouldn't believe me," She shifted her weight to her leg. "Or, think I'm paranoid."

A half smile slipped through his stoic expression.

"Paranoia is what pays my bills." His expression fell blank again. "Do you have their names, addresses?"

"Names yes, addresses I can get. Just as long as you keep my name out of it."

"Why?"

"I need this job," She smiled sadly. "Too many questions can get you fired, or worse."

He pulled out his cellphone and scrolled through as she stood their uncomfortable. His blue eyes flicked over the screen.

"I have a meeting tomorrow at nine, but I'm free after that. Could you have the addresses by then?"

"Yes, I can get into the system from home tonight."

"You can come to my office then. The address is on my card."

"Got it," She said slipping the slightly crumpled card into her pocket with her phone and wallet. "I'll come around ten."

She turned on her heal walked away, feeling his calculating gaze on the back of her neck till she rounded the corner.


End file.
